I've been sick for about a week now and I'm running a fever: 99.2, which is high for me because I run at around 95-96 degrees. You readers are super lucky I've got so many chapters queued up ready to be posted, otherwise there wouldn't be anything at all, 'cause I haven't had the energy to write these past four or so days. My cat seems to know I'm sick. She's being way more cuddly than usual!

I'm loving the fact that I have more reviews than chapters! Keep 'em coming! I respond to about 80% of my reviews in general, and 100% of the ones that ask me questions or have concerns about my writing.

I don't own FMA!

Edward

He couldn't sleep that night. How could he, when he knew what was coming?

What am I going to do? I can't die, not now, I'm still practically a kid!

How will I explain to Al? Pinako? Winry? They'll never forgive me if I trade my life for theirs. I've made so many promises… I promised I'd get my body back… Al, Win, Grandma, Hawkeye. What kind of asshole will I be if I renege by dying?

I can't make everyone cry over me; I knew that when the metal beam got shoved through my stomach—I knew I couldn't stand knowing they would cry over me, even if I was dead and gone when they did. It was horrible to think about then, as it is now.

When I used alchemy to seal up that wound, I knew I was probably shortening my lifespan to do so… but I didn't really think too hard about what that meant at the time. For all I know, my lifespan might be so short I will die tomorrow anyway. Ugh, how could I have been so stupid?

Is it worth it, though? My life for theirs, equivalent exchange?

No, that can't be right… No. Haven's not the decider; it's not Haven's job to play God with my life and theirs on the line.

This is so much my fault, and yet so much not. Why me? Why do I have to die? So many have died already… my death will be meaningless. How can the misinformation of the public have led to such a mess? Why is it that no matter how I look at this situation, it always ends with either I or my family dying?

What am I supposed to do?

Somehow he found himself leaving his hotel room, walking across the hall. He had the key to Winry's room—he'd made sure that he had copies of everyone's room key. In case there was an emergency, he didn't want to end up locked out.

Certainly this counted as an emergency…

It was pretty late by now… Maybe he should knock first.

No, wait. What was he doing? Even if she wasn't asleep—which she probably was—what was Ed going to say to her if she was awake? Hey, Winry, I just wanted to see your face one more time while I wait patiently for either someone trying to prevent my death or the time when I must offer myself up to the terrorists in exchange for yours, Al's, and Pinako's lives. Yeah, right, that would go over well.

She'd hit him.

Or cry.

Each was worse than the other.

Ed leaned against the door to Winry's room, 1575, then sank to the floor and put his head in his hands… but then that didn't help, even his own body reminded him of her…The automail; her best work for her best childhood friend, as she'd always used to say.

All he had to do was knock on her door. Or he could cross the hall and knock on Alphonse's. The rooms around him were full of people who loved him unconditionally, who would help him bear his burden, and yet he could not summon the courage to knock on the damn door.

Knowing he was going to die tonight, how could Ed knock on Winry's door with the hand she'd so lovingly given him?

Winry

She couldn't sleep that night. All that day, Ed and Al had been subdued, and they hadn't said more than five words each to her: "Good morning, Winry," and "Good night."

It gave her a sick feeling… They'd told her they couldn't tell what was in their letters, so surely didn't that mean it was bad news?

Where had Ed gone when he'd left around midday without explanation?

Why were they both so nervous today? She knew they were scared—all day Al had been fidgety, and Ed had been still; it was a dead giveaway on both of their parts.

Of course, neither of them had noticed the fever she'd been running all day today and all night last night. If she had told someone, would they have paid her more attention? Maybe it was good that she hadn't told; she didn't want them worrying about her on top of worrying about Haven. However, she wondered if it was a bad idea that she had kept secret the fact that she was still suffering from whatever had poisoned her at home in Resembool. Furthermore, she'd eaten next to nothing, and though she felt hungry, the nausea that came on and off prevented her from eating.

The fever was the worst, though. It was impossible to sleep.

Winry sat on the single armchair in her room. It was dark, and she hadn't bothered to turn on the lights.

She fingered the ring on her hand, and wondered what it really meant to Ed… she certainly knew how much it meant to her.

Maybe… would it be so horrible if she went over to Ed's room and checked up on him? He'd made sure she had his key, so it wouldn't even be an issue.

Ah, the nausea was coming back now. What a horrible feeling.

Yes, she needed Ed, she needed Grandma, she needed someone who would take care of her… but then, no… She wouldn't burden either of them with that.

And besides, Ed was probably asleep.

Roy

This was sick, just sick—how could they force him to sacrifice Fullmetal for Hawkeye, or vice versa?

No, he wouldn't do that. Maybe there was another way…?

Okay, so it was a long shot, but it was the best he could come up with, and he would have to rely heavily on Fullmetal's ability to survive long enough for him to get there, but…

He would have to get Riza first. She was restrained and at Haven's mercy, so if he didn't come for her she had no chance. Then, after he'd gotten Riza, he would rush to where he now knew Fullmetal would be, and with a bit of luck, there would be time…

He had to make a decision, and he had to make the right one, and he had to do it now… Roy made a turn down the street where Haven had said the directions to Riza would be, speaking to Ed Elric inside his head as if he could mentally yell it loud enough and Edward would telepathically hear and obey.

Come on, Fullmetal, please don't go down without a fight!

Riza

When she gained consciousness the first time, she was pissed off. She'd kicked her legs, which had been bound together, and caught the first man in his weakest place, but then the second guy had reacted quickly and knocked her over the head with the butt of his gun, so she'd passed out again.

A few minutes later when she came to the second time, she'd flung out her elbow and caught someone in the gut. They'd just wrapped her up with more ropes and dumped her in the closet where she couldn't reach anything else.

At some point, they had lit the fire, and she tried to stay awake, but there was too much smoke, she couldn't breathe, she got lightheaded, and she was out again.

The fire had gone out though, at least it had mostly gone out, and she'd come awake again. She didn't know how long she'd been out, but the guards outside seemed to feel comfortable enough that they were talking freely. So she'd probably been out a long time.

They were talking about their plans, and how clever the president of haven was; they must have been talking in code or something… what did havens have to do with anything? And since when did they have presidents--it was absurd! That didn't matter, though, because then they started talking about flame, but they said it with a capital letter in their tones, so she knew flame was Flame, the General, the one she'd promised herself to protect, the one she'd trusted her back to. But then… No! He couldn't be coming here? What were they talking about, a sacrifice? Was he going to sacrifice someone else for her! No, he couldn't! That was horrible, how could he even think for one second that her life was worth anyone else's? …As quietly as possible, she struggled against her bonds, but they really had her tight this time, and every tiny movement of her head made gravity swing wildly and painfully… Riza hated feeling helpless.

She listened some more, but the news got worse, and she found out just who the 'sacrifice' was…

Please, God, don't let Roy make such a horrible decision for my sake! she begged in her head. But God didn't answer. He never did… of course; she already knew that, because how could any deity have sat back and ignored Ishbal?

Next chapter...

"Riza," he said to initiate a response; he wanted to confirm just how awake she was. Apparently she was only faking the semiconsciousness, because she lurched forward and head-butted Roy crouching in front of her.

"Ah! Ow, my nose! You really got me good there, Hawkeye."

"Ah… Col… General," she said hoarsely. "Sorry, Sir. Thought you were the other guy."